


Paid for Whipping

by Red



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/F, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Sex Work, Whipping, With Thanks to the Vagina Monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-10
Updated: 2008-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Franziska finds a new career path, and Adrian is glad to be her agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paid for Whipping

Foolish. A land of ridiculous, absurd, mindless and most of all foolish fools. That was all she had left behind, she had thought, in moving back to Germany, for who would miss such an air-headed and weak-willed Judge? Such incompetent and bumbling police detectives? Such infuriating and illogically lucky defense attorneys? No, there was nothing to miss about such an idiotic time as that when she had prosecuted in Los Angeles. 

Why, over time, two of the least-foolish people with whom she had been acquainted in her time in America--her baby brother, and the intriguing Ms. Andrews--had more-or-less moved over as well. So, clearly, with company that was at least approaching sensible, with a highly successful law career (she was, after all, undefeated in this country), with colleagues who were intelligent and organized, with a beautiful apartment and the best whip money could buy, clearly she was as happy and content as one with a brain unaddled by foolishness could be. 

And yet...

Yet there was something to be said--as foolish as it sounded--for all that foolishness. Maybe the time she had spent amongst idiots had lowered her own formidable IQ, but as months turned to years, as she went through the routine of case after case... She grew to realize that she was, quite simply, growing weary of the predictability of a logical court system. 

Rarely was there a detective who required a swift face-full of whip. Never was there a judge who needed a mid-court wake-up call, nor a defense attorney worthy of a swift beating. Perhaps, Franziska often thought, the beginning of the boredom came after that terrible news from Miles: that they may never face the ridiculous Wright in court again. It was more devastating for her poor baby brother, of course, but such news was infuriating, even to her. It had been _her_ dream to bring down that idiot, to face him once more to whip that foolish expression off his blank and vapid face, and she would have done it _fairly_. 

So she did what she could to stave off that boredom. She wrote long, threatening letters to fools like Gumshoe and the Feys. She sent Wright's daughter simple gifts, such as trick knives and packets of realistic fake blood, because one should always encourage a young woman's dreams--and give fools like Wright the occasional myocardial infarction. She belittled her silly little brother on any opportunity possible. But most of all, after those long days of utterly ordinary court trials, she liked to make sure that her whip arm did not get rusty. 

Adrian. The silly girl was near as successful as any von Karma--running her own silly agency of some sort for silly American tourists. Yes. So, perhaps Adrian was even more successful: she enjoyed her work, enjoyed bossing those fools around, and enjoyed coming home and telling Franziska how completely idiotic those customers were. 

Franziska, meanwhile, became increasingly concerned about where her own fool mind. No longer could she completely focus on a case during court (although, even a mere tenth of her concentration was more than sufficient to defeat any fool defense attorney) as when she was younger. Now her thoughts were, more often than not, consumed with thoughts of getting back to the apartment and of returning to Adrian's tapping pen and smug grins; of wielding her whip once more.

It was as if all of her old passion for law had left in the presence of Adrian. The fool did not always deserve whipping, true. But it was difficult for Franziska to deny her whip to that beautiful body. She'd had that whip for years, and never had she known someone who would beg for it (many were just asking for it, yes, but this was so wonderfully different), and never would she have imagined the ways in which Adrian would ask. Her career may be dull, but to come home to a simply gorgeous woman bent over one's own kitchen table, with nothing on but a little grin? And after she had told the idiot many times, "If you put your naked fool body on my kitchen table one more time, every time you sit for the next week, you will remember the error of your foolish ways!" 

So went three years. Every case was merely a distraction from the real work in her life: reminding Adrian Andrews to keep off the kitchen table, by any means possible. Franziska would race home to hear those high little cries, to see those lovely red stipes stand out on pale skin, to feel that reverent tongue against her own flesh. Soon, she was even doing foolish things von Karmas simply did not do, like turn down cases just because the defendant seemed innocent to have a little more spare time and taking long vacations. 

It was on one such vacation--wherein she and Adrian (what ridiculousness) did not even go anywhere, and indeed, hardly even left the apartment--when Adrian first broached the idea. Absurd, that she had gone so far along this path of foolishness that she even listened to such foolhardy plans. 

She had been lying with her head on Adrian's stomach, half-dozing (it was late summer, and too sunny by far in the apartment--even the most clever and quick-minded individuals would have to nap under such conditions), content with Adrian's shoulder-rub technique. Every so often, if Adrian slacked off, she'd administer a swift pinch to her inner thigh; occasionally, she would reward a particularly good massage with teasing strokes to the swollen outer lips of Adrian's sex. Afternoons like this, she could keep the fool on edge all day, but apparently Adrian had other plans. Suddenly, she stopped the massage.

"Franziska--hey, don't, I'm actually trying to talk to you here."

"Hmph. Only a fool would want to interrupt such an afternoon with a serious conversation," she groused. However, Adrian was not usually one to spout off too long in bouts of superfluous speech, unlike some she could name (really, the amount of paper that idiot detective could waste when all he had to say was "sir, don't hurt me," was amazing), so she shifted to fold her arms on her lover's stomach, to prop her chin up to look at Adrian's thoughtful expression. 

 

"What is it, then? Interrupting me like that..."

"Believe me, I enjoyed you where you were. I've been thinking--and don't get too weird about this, okay?--that you just aren't entirely happy lately." 

"I do not know what you're talking about. I am perfectly happy, particularly when you are not gibbering on with such nonsense."

Adrian flicked at her with her pen. Ridiculous--where did she even have that pen, and when did she find such foolish nerve to flick the great Franziska von Karma with a pen? 

"I'm not talking about this," she said, with her little grin. "I'm talking about your job." 

Franziska scowled a little. Of course, this conversation had been three years in the avoiding--she had done very well in thwarting it through distractions as absurd and varied from "you should really be spanked for bringing that up," to "maybe we should clean the living room" to the last-ditch "let's watch foolish children's shows with my feeble-minded brother"--and it was inevitable that Adrian should pin it on her one day.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not discontent with my career, Adrian. And even if I were, being happy has nothing to do with my job. The great Prosecutor Franziska von Karma is, by definition, a prosecutor. If I'm bored a week here or there, it's of little matter."

Frowning, Adrian tapped her pen. "And why, exactly, do you think you have to be a prosecutor in order to be Prosecutor Franziska von Karma?"

"Now I know you are talking nonsense."

Adrian looked down at her, still fidgeting with her pen. What a foolish nervous habit. "What I mean to say is--you've been a prosecutor since you were thirteen. All the previous reasons you had for being a prosecutor are gone. Did you ever think that maybe... Maybe law isn't what you were meant to do? Not to say you don't do your job well, and I really don't want to offend you, Franziska, but..."

"Fool, be quiet. Don't apologize like that," she interrupted quickly. Fool was still too eager to please, sometimes.

She had thought about this before, of course. Once, it had been for her father's sake. That, of course, was gone. Then, she had enjoyed the competition with her baby brother. He, of course, had not only gone soft in the head far before she, but he was also now studying international law and visiting his foolish spike-headed idiot boyfriend far more than he got around to prosecuting. Later, she had the dream of bringing that ridiculous spike-headed idiot down. This, too, was taken from her. Yet, she had been a prosecutor for ten years, now. It was simply what she did, and she couldn't imagine starting out somewhere else. 

Something in her expression must have shown through to Adrian, who rubbed her neck soothingly. "I know. But I wouldn't suggest this without an idea, Franziska. This is a little awkward, but... I know you enjoy what we do, together. I mean, not really the sex, but the other part--you've always been adept with your whip." She smirked a little, and then looked away shyly. 

"You really helped me discover a lot about myself, through that. I think... That you might be able to do that for others." 

Franziska could only blink. "Are you suggesting I..."

"You'll just be whipping them, after all. You've done that professionally for years, right?" 

"And you think there are fools out there foolish enough to give me money for whipping them? You're as weak-minded as any fool I know." 

Yet, she couldn't deny being intrigued. Adrian played with her hair thoughtfully. "It's just a suggestion, Franziska. But believe me, I think it may be a profitable one."

\---

At first, she did it out of curiosity. Adrian got a friend-of-a-friend in contact with her. She had the foolish woman meet her in a spare apartment Adrian had rented for the new business venture. And then she whipped the fool, told the fool she was a foolish fool for being so hung up on her foolish career as some silly fool of an anesthesiologist, and when it was all over in the allotted two hours--after the woman had cried and then thanked her--she was paid. 

Paid for whipping. 

It was a revelation. She came home to Adrian, amazed; she showered and then, still-wet, jumped on her, laying frantic kisses across her face. Brilliant idiot! She bit her neck and shoulders as she lay over her back, Adrian still fully-clothed; she ground her fingers against her cunt through her pants, rubbing hard under their combined weights, Adrian moaning and laughing breathlessly the whole time. 

Later, after Adrian had toppled her and licked and nuzzled her into a laughing, still-amazed orgasm, they lay on the floor kissing for some time, Adrian curious about the details (a lawyer always keeps a client's secrets, however), and Franziska still curious how Adrian had come up with this, and why she would suggest it. 

"Of course, I am still a lawyer. I still intend to take on cases, as a von Karma should. Yet... will you not become jealous from this foolish new venture you have suggested?" 

"Of course not," Adrian said, still infuriatingly messing with Franziska's already infuriatingly messy hair, "I'm your agent, after all." 

Franziska kissed her once more. "Saying things like that. I know you mean that you're my fool, after all."


End file.
